


Willing

by OverwatchingYouSleep



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Kidnapping, Knifeplay, M/M, Stockholm Syndrome, Trans Male!Reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-07
Updated: 2017-09-07
Packaged: 2018-12-24 23:24:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12023250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OverwatchingYouSleep/pseuds/OverwatchingYouSleep
Summary: What you really wanted was peace. Not freedom.A request piece for Soldier: 76 with a T!Male Reader, enjoy <3





	Willing

**Author's Note:**

> We write more stuff @overwatching-you-sleep.tumblr.com

He says he loves you. You're pretty sure he means it. Though, you sometimes feel he loves the sight of your blood more.

 

"Louder," he grunts in response to your cries, knife sliding up your leg and tracing along your inner thigh. There's a major vein there, he's reminded you innumerable times, that could kill you if it was cut. He tells you that, then runs his knife along it, so many times now that you know exactly where it is. 

 

"Oh my god," you moan, hands grasping weakly for him. He smiles down at you, but it lacks warmth. 

 

"Get into position," he commands. You flip over without protest, pulling yourself on your hands and knees. How easily it has been to beat you into submission, so easy that it didn't require any actual beating at all. 

 

Your eagerness even earns a chuckle out of him. "Good boy."

 

He grabs onto your hip with his right hand and holds the knife to the back of your neck with the other. He didn't truly need it, not to get you to do what you would already do with ease for him. He probably just enjoyed having the power.

 

"Are you ready for me?" There was only one answer to that question, and for that reason he didn't wait for your answer. He forced himself inside of you harshly, helped along by the natural wetness your body was producing in response to him. You didn't know why you found any of this sexy. Especially since you didn’t before he stole you away.

 

"Fuck," you whispered below your breath, no other sounds or moans slipping past your lips. It's relatively quiet sex, the sound of his flesh on yours the most prominent sound in the room, punctuated by the occasional grunt or curse.

 

You were both quiet people.

His harsh thrusts were pushing you close to orgasm already, legs quaking in anticipation of your body's release. The dull edge of the blade sliding across your sweaty skin only amplified the beating in your chest. He was holding you up so easily.

 

"Enjoying yourself?" he asked. Again, a question that only had one answer. He wouldn't hear any other. 

 

“Yes,” you whimpered, shaking your hips to draw your orgasm closer. The knife slid away from your skin, slicing through a few errant hairs on the way, but eventually the chill of the metal couldn’t be felt anywhere on your skin. The clang that followed a second after confirmed that he dropped it to the floor.

 

“How good is it?” he asked, but even that sounded more intense than regular dirty talk. Like he was trying to sniff you out in a lie. As you’re about to open your mouth to speak, you feel the sharp sting of his hand connecting with the soft flesh of your ass. “How good?”

 

“It feels so good,” you moan, neither willing to lie nor play up your pleasure. He lays another heavy   spank right over the first, stinging your reddened flesh further.You tilt your head down to bite the pillow, give yourself some relief from the pain of the third, then fourth harsh slap. You expected a fifth, but what you got instead was his hips slamming against your flesh, lighting it aflame.

 

Whatever he said next was drowned out in your scream.  It was agony. Such a searing pain that you didn’t even notice the warm strands of cum he was shooting inside of you until he pulled out and let you feel it drip out of your abused hole.

 

“Isn’t that a sight?” he praised, hand clapping down on your reddened ass. You sucked your breath in through your teeth, barely able to stand the pain. It must have been a sight. He never could get enough of it. “Now what do you say?”

 

“Thank you.” At the end of every night, there was a thank you. As though he expected you to be grateful for what ultimately came down to his pleasure. He never even checked to make sure you came. His weight left the bed, and the “you’re welcome” you might have hoped for was absent, replaced by quiet footsteps fading in the distance.

 

The door closing was like the gong that signalled that your night was over. You rolled over onto your side, still leaking his seed, and closed your eyes. No point in trying to get yourself off when he wasn’t here, it never worked. You wound up more frustrated, if anything. You just wanted to go to sleep. 

 

It didn't come as easily as you'd hoped. You were usually eager to sleep; it was one of the few things you wanted to do more of. Soldier: 76 kept you on a strict schedule, incorporating meals, exercise, and everything else into a strict timetable that he had you adhere to everyday. You hated missing out on sleep.

 

The blank white ceiling was something of a blessing. It allowed you to paint pictures with your thoughts while you stared aimlessly, trying to lure your brain to slumber. You thought of your family, but that hurt, as did any thought about your past life. But the more you entertained thoughts about your current life, the more disillusioned you became, content with how these things were happening instead of trying to fight it.

 

You had given up on fighting a long time ago. 

 

So, you were left with nothing to think about but dreams. Dreams of a life after this one, where you could be free, able to do what you want, away from this house where you were confined. It sounded promising at first, but less appealing each and every time you thought of it. 

 

What you really wanted was peace. Not freedom, the ability to do whatever you want. You feared you were far too dependant for that now. 76 did everything for you. He cooked your meals and did your laundry, paid the bills and made sure you were always catered to. You couldn't even remember what it was like to have to work for your money, but from what you did remember, you didn't want to return to it.

 

You wanted the ability to not have to fear 76 anymore. You didn't act out, didn't earn any of his punishments from any of the things you did because you found it wasn't hard to stay within the limits of his rules. Sometimes, though, he's simply in a sour mood and you can't help but shy away from his threatening demeanor. He doesn't hurt you, but he very well could. 

 

The sex was different. He hurt you then, cut you and other such things, but it was for pleasures sake. He sometimes took care of you afterwards, a rare but memorable occasion. And you didn't complain, not only because you weren't sure what would happen if you did, but because it did feel good. At least, at some point it had started to.

 

And though your life was close to peaceful, even bordering on normal, the locks and bars in every corner of the home shattered that illusion. Your own bedroom was home to an intricate locking system on the door, vertical bars on the windows, and a variety of traps that have been disabled thanks to your good behavior, but not removed. He didn't quite trust you yet either.

 

You weren't sure why you trusted him to any degree, besides except the fact that he's stuck to his word so far and showed no intent to betray you in the future. It was a weak illusion to shatter. 

 

Why you didn’t fight back anymore, you weren’t sure. Maybe it was because you had no plan, no drive to leave. You’d rather live a comfortable life here than aggravate it with failed escape attempts. You simply lacked hope that you would live any other life besides the one you were in now.

 

And maybe, you thought before you drifted into light slumber, that wasn’t the worst thing in the world.

 

\--

 

Breakfast is always quiet. You don’t have anything to say, and neither does he. You simply sit at the table and eat whatever is set in front of you. This is a routine you’ve long since settled into, but today, the routine is broken, and not even by you.

 

“I have to leave.” You looked up at him, fork paused mid-way from your plate, but you didn’t set it down nor close your mouth. He was staring straight at you, eyes stern but nonplussed. “A mission in Barcelona, going to be gone for about a week and a half. Maybe more, if things don’t go according to plan.”

 

“Okay.” You bite down on the eggs still hanging off your fork, and the conversation is over. He’s frozen for a moment, perhaps a bit moved by your indifference, but he eventually returns to his own food. 

 

You went through your daily schedule of exercise, chores, and television until the conversation came up again in the late evening. You had been talking all day, about little things here and there. Like that morning hadn’t even happened. 

 

You had yet to have been left alone in the house. Ever since you were brought here, 76 has always kept himself less than 3 walls away. It never made sense to you; he could catch you faster than you could ever escape, even if you had a headstart of  _ days _ . 76 had stressed to you over and over again how capable he was of finding you. Yet he acted like he would lose you if you were more than 20 feet away.

 

Your only concern, and it was a small one, was the measures he might take to make sure you stay in line while he’s gone. All of his dead traps reactivated, or cameras placed to follow your every move. Of course, they might already be in place, for all you knew.

 

There was no point in you speculating over what he might do. All it did was make you jittery, and you hadn’t felt that sort of fright towards 76 in a long time. Instead, you focused all the more on your daily activities. The thought of his leaving didn’t even cross your mind again until the sound of a bag hitting the floor snapped your eyes away from the evening TV. 

 

“I’m going to make sure you can get by while I’m gone,” he states, mask now distorting his voice. You nodded wordlessly, muting the television without looking at it and giving him your full attention. “I’m leaving food in the kitchen, and everything else will be on. All the security systems, so that nobody can get to you while I’m gone. So you’ll be safe.”

 

You knew that wasn’t the reason. He was warning you against trying anything. You wanted to defend yourself, but you weren’t sure if he’d believe you if you told him it hadn’t crossed your mind once. The beginning was like that, a lot of fear and pleas for escape but it wasn’t long before you just...accepted fate. You had long since accepted this.

 

So instead, you said, “Thank you.”

 

He nodded wordlessly, then gestured towards the television. “Come on, shower then bed.” 

 

Not needing further instruction, you flicked the TV off and shuffled past him to the bathroom. The desire to rebel against him, against any of this, had disappeared along with your want for freedom. Living with 76 was better than what you dealt with in your life before. It wasn’t all that bad, if you were honest. If you looked at it more objectively.

 

You didn’t see him again that night before bed, only heard his distant movement in the kitchen. Something in you wanted to see what he was doing, but you weren’t sure if he wanted you there. He had given you orders. You were unsure whether or not he would actually say goodbye to you, and you were almost glad when he didn't. 

 

You woke up undisturbed, the only thing different about this morning was that there was no smell of food already cooking. You swung your legs over the edge of your bed and moved to stand when your foot brushed against something cold and metal. You flinched away and looked down, almost jumping back at the sight of the pocketknife. It hadn’t been there all this time, had it? 76 had dropped it the other night, and you hadn’t thought to check for it the next day. How hadn’t you noticed it until now?

 

After your initial shock subsided, you bent over to take the blade between your fingers. It was cold from lack of use, sharpened edges battered with various nicks and scratches. Like a familiar friend, you had almost memorized the patterns of damage along its surface. Yet, despite the many times you’ve been on the business end of this blade, it still felt utterly foreign wielded in your own hands.

 

You turned it side to side a couple time, testing it’s heft and speed, before you realized what you were doing. You didn’t intend to use this knife for anything. Not only did you not want to fight 76, you could go against a bare-handed 76 with a rocket launcher and still lose. A weapon was useless to you. 

 

With a sigh, you shut the blade and placed it on your bedside table. Then, in a moment of wise judgment, decided to take it over to his bedroom instead. It was locked, you didn’t know why you thought otherwise, so you just slid it through the crack at the bottom of his door and moved on with your day. 

 

While you walked to the kitchen, you were wondering if there was any way you would take advantage of your newfound freedom. Though, after throwing away a golden opportunity like a weapon, you doubted yourself on it. Even more discouraging were the metal bars covering every window, the intricate locking system on the front door that you had no hope of cracking. Your train of thought was reduced to a dull buzz in the back of your brain, barely worth entertaining anymore. 

 

That's how the lure of escape usually felt to you.

 

True to his promise, you found that he had left food in the cupboards and fridge for you to use without stashing it away. Bare essentials, with a few fruits and vegetables and a single box of donuts sitting on top of the refrigerator. One of those and a glass of milk made your breakfast, held in the living room, free of dining table non-conversation. Your first rule broken.

 

The television still had parental controls on it, blocking all the news stations for you to watch. You still didn't understand why he bothered with such a thing, you had been kidnapped months ago. Surely there was no chance of you popping up on any news station, local or national, and why would he block it otherwise? What would you knowing about what's going on outside affect you any?

 

You sighed, but it wasn't the worst thing to lose. Biting into your donut with mild aggravation, you flicked over to one of the movie channels and started watching whatever was on while you ate. The movie ended and it's sequel popped on right after, further disillusioning you to how much time was passing until you saw the sunlight passing over the wall through the bars across the west window. It was mid-afternoon.

 

"Christ," you moaned, picking up the remote and checking the TV guide. It was already 3 o'clock. If time could pass this quickly without you realizing, 76 would be back quicker than you could even fathom. 

 

You stood from the couch, your laziness paying you back in the form of a cramping back and legs that you had to stretch out. You were starting to understand 76's insistence on a combination of different activities to fill your day; you truly started to lose track when you got carried away with one thing.

 

Once you had shaken out all of your sleepy limbs, you shuffled into the hallway and over to the bathroom. You usually didn't shower until bed, but this would just be another of your broken rules. You wanted the warm inviting feeling of water down your back, over your face and washing away all the sleepiness.

 

While you waited for the water to get warm, you stripped and kicked your clothes into the corner of the bathroom, reminding yourself to pick them up when you left. All the habit-forming in the world wouldn't stop you from being lazy when you had the chance. 

 

You looked at yourself in the mirror briefly before it steamed up. Your body was showing the effects of your captivity, your pale skin unmistakably that of a shut-in, and the bags underneath your eyes ten times heavier than they had ever been even in your most stressed times. Yet, even with these obvious signs, you still boasted a healthy amount of muscles from 76's exercise routine, you were obviously fed and clean. You could pass off for a basement dweller before a kidnapping victim, and that raised a repeated question to your mind.

 

Were you really a victim of anything?

 

Your life hadn't improved since 76 took you, it wasn't so broad as that, but it was easier. He took care of everything for you, and he obviously cared for you, otherwise he wouldn't go through any of the trouble. He did a lot for you. If you weren't scared anymore, if you enjoyed the meals he prepared and the nights you spend together, are you a victim anymore?

 

In the mirror, your eyes lose contact with themselves as the steam covers the remaining spots on the glass. You aren't sure anymore. You don't even want to think of what your answer would be if you were offered the opportunity to leave.

 

The water in the shower was scalding hot, so you turned the cold water knob until it balanced out and stepped in. Your body welcomed the warmth, tense muscles unfolding beneath the heat. It truly felt like a layer of grime was being washed off of you every time you stepped in, though you never did anything that could get you the least bit dirty. Except, of course, for one thing.

 

You considered how it would feel not to be having sex with 76 for over a week. There was never a period of more than 3 days without him finding his way back into your room, taking what he considered his and leaving right after he's done. Then, those rare nights where he would actually stay, where you feel less like a captive and more like a lover to him.

 

What was wrong with you?

 

You shoved your head beneath the stream of hot water and let it run over your scalp, washing your thoughts away until there was nothing. It hurt too much to think, it brought you to terrifying conclusions and made you realize what you didn't want to acknowledge. Your life would go by much simpler here if you could learn to ignore your critical thinking skills.

 

You glanced at the various bath products on the corner shelf, but you didn't feel like taking a full shower. You only found yourself craving the warmth of the water, in lieu of another, less-wanted type of warmth. You didn't want to like him, not when he made you so confused about whether or not you truly didn't want to be here. But he was the only other human you had any contact with.

 

Without him, it would be lonely. That was almost certainly worse.

 

You stood there until the water got cold, and even then you didn't even notice until it was stinging your skin from the chill. You turned both knobs off, pulling back the curtain and letting the air of the room warm you from the icy drops of water on your skin. You grabbed the fuzziest towel out of the linen closet and wrapped it around your body, drying your arms and torso off before wrapping it around your waist.

 

The hallway was cooler than the bathroom, a visible cloud of steam erupting from the bathroom when you open the door. You stepped out on the carpet and made your way to your room, wet droplets from your hair falling onto your chest and down your spine. You wanted the warmest set of pajamas you had. 

 

You searched through your drawers with one hand while you shook out your hair with the other, cold water flying all over the floor and yourself. When you found the fuzzy pjs you were searching for, you dried off one final time with the towel before putting it on.

 

You went back to the living room with your blanket in tow, crawling onto the couch and lying on your side. The movie you turned the TV on to wasn't at all interesting, so you channel surfed until you came across a live stand-up comedy show. You couldn't name any of the comedians, telling you it was more than likely a small or even local show, but you pulled your hand back into your blanket cocoon and tuned into it anyways. 

 

The theme seemed to center around current events, and for that you were lost. You could barely understand even half of the references they were making in their jokes, and the ones you did felt vague and so long ago.

 

These people were talking about things happening right now, probably world news that everyone knew about except you. How disconnected how you gotten? It was easy to forget when your entire life revolved around Soldier 76. He kept you distracted, so much so that you hadn't even thought of what was going on beyond the walls of this house.

 

It was smart of him, you had to hand it to him. You'd probably have a culture shock if you walked outside again. You had no idea how you had been able to process all of the things going on both in your life and in the world. Compared to how incredibly simple your life was now, you couldn't imagine complicating it any further. Living with 76 was so easy.

 

Eventually, you got bored of the program when you heard the 100th reference you couldn't understand. You flicked the channel over to some romcom and settled back in your blanket. The last of the sunlight was filtering through the windows, trailing down the wall, but you paid it no mind.  You let the clock run on, flicking back and forth between channels until the only thing you could find was infomercials. With a heavy sigh, you turned off the television and moved to sit up.

 

Laying there for hours hadn't bothered you any until you moved. For the second time you had a hard time standing up, stretching out your idle muscles and shaking out your limbs. The day had passed in the blink of an eye and yet you were more trapped in your mind than you had been in a long time.

 

You missed 76. At least he kept your mind occupied and away from these thoughts.

 

You slept on the couch that night, and for the next few nights after that. You weren't sure why it appealed to you. Perhaps because you can't sleep on it when he's around, or waking up in a different room lets you feel refreshed for the first time in you couldn't say how long. Even if the illusion only lasted a second before you remembered where you were.

 

You were munching crackers with peanut butter on them when you heard the front door begin to unlock. You jumped and looked down at yourself, still in your pajamas, wrapped up in a blanket with crumbs all over the couch and yourself. You hadn't expected him back for some more days. Did the house look acceptable? Did you remember?

 

Your alarm was raised further by the front door opening in the room just next to the living room. You scrambled for the remote, but paused with it in your hands, eyes wide at the shadow falling over you. You glance up, where his dark silhouette stood in the lit doorway to the kitchen. No time to save yourself.

 

"Welcome home," you say, already resigned to the imminent punishment that awaits you. 76 says nothing in response, looking you over and glancing at the television. He's not wearing his mask. He’s not even holding the bag he left with. You closed in on yourself, the pace of your heartbeat speeding up in anticipation. “It’s nice to see you.”

 

He turned abruptly and walks down the hall, disappearing around the corner. Following him didn’t feel like the smart thing to do. so you turned and looked right back at the TV, trying to focus on what was on the screen. What had seemed so interesting a minute ago was static to you now, second to the loud alarm bells going off in your head. 

 

All the things you had left untidied were flashing through your thoughts, meant to be cleaned the day before he came back. You’d gotten too comfortable. You hadn’t even considered that he might come back early.

You weren't sure what you were waiting for. The sound of slamming doors, angry footsteps, anything to denote his disappointment at the broken rules, the forgotten habits. Anything to put an end to the nervousness pulling a heavy weight on your chest, making each heart beat pronounced and  harsh against your chest. You had forgotten what it felt like to fear 76. 

 

You eventually turned the TV off, unable to stand the chipper background music any longer. It only felt like a mockery to you right now, when you felt like your entire world was about to crash. You kept your eye on the hallway, waiting for him to turn around the corner, which he did. Holding the knife in his hands.

 

"Where did you find this?" he questioned, turning it once over in his fingers. Your mouth went dry. You were so afraid to disappoint him.

 

"O-On the floor. My room." He nodded, blue eyes flicking back down to the blade. He flicked it out, ensuring that it was just as it was before he left, then closed it again and pocketed it. 

 

"Alright, I remember now." His eyes fell over to the television, now off, and back to you. He seemed to be really taking you in, eyes trailing over your pajamas and crumb-covered blanket. His face held no trace of the fury that you had expected from him. "You did a good job."

 

"Huh?" This caught you so off-guard you almost forgot your fear, going near cross-eyed in your confusion. Had you really? You had been a lazy slob this entire time, ignoring every chore and routine that 76 had spent months pounding into your brain. He had to have known that, right? 

 

He chuckled quietly, closing the distance of the living room in two steps and kneeling down right in front of you. He eased your cheek into his palm, caressing you, and you melted into the touch. You missed the touch. You missed  _ him _ .

 

"You're not tempted by anything, are you?" You opened your droopy eyelids, taking him in with an almost dreamy smile. He was smiling too, a rare sight, and you bathed in how normal this felt. Your heart was no longing twitching in your chest, your lungs weren't seizing with breath anymore.  He was coming home, after days away from you, and he was happy to see you. You were happy to see him, too.

 

"Just laziness," you admitted. His smile widened and so did yours. You were confused, such a stickler for the rules not enforcing them, but you weren't going to question it. This was a tender moment. It could stay that way forever, for all you cared. You just wanted to forget the negative and be content here with him.

 

"Well, you're cleaning up the result of your laziness tomorrow." It's a command, just like every other. Yet it doesn't feel that way. Not when he uses such a gentle voice, his thumb stroking your cheekbone lovingly. You nod once, and ke leans forward and kisses your other cheek. The warmth of his lips send a small flutter through your stomach, and for a moment you feel elated.

 

You missed him. You _ missed  _ him.

\---

 

The next morning came more peacefully than any before it. The night before had been calmer than you ever could have predicted, 76 sitting beside you on the couch and watching movies with you until you were sent to bed after your third yawn. Like a normal couple, in so many ways it was almost frightening.

 

Except, it wasn't. You were grateful for this change, for how you were able to delude yourself into thinking this was normal. It was getting easier and easier; did that mean that it truly was approaching normal? You hoped so, maybe then you wouldn't feel so bad about how comfortable you were getting here. All the relatives and friends you were okay forgetting.

 

You cracked your eyes open, taking in the familiar teal and white of your room. First the colors had instilled fear and entrapment, then nothingness, and now, a strange sort of comfort that you were exactly where you belonged. Usually, that feeling was ruined when you noticed the vertical bars closing off the window, rendering it unopenable. 

 

You were so used to seeing them there, in fact, that you noticed immediately when they were missing. 

 

You shot up into a sitting position, staring wide-eyed at the window. It was unbarred, unlocked, perfectly normal looking compared to how it had looked just yesterday. Your door lacked the multiple locking systems it had before, a simple latch sitting in their place. Were you still dreaming?

 

You started to swing your legs over the edge of the bed, but a hand around your wrist made you freeze, every muscle tense in fear. You turned your head and 76 was there, staring up at you with that same genuine smile that he wore yesterday. It suited him so much better than his usual scowl.

 

"Good morning," he said. You weren't sure what to do. He had never slept beside you, not once, even on the more tender nights where he might cuddle you after sex, or stay beside you until you slept. He was always gone when you woke up, but not this time. 

 

"Good morning," you replied, gently pulling your arm out of his grip and laying your hand over his instead. He smiles wider, and you flash a tiny grin back. You never want this to stop. This was your peace.

 

"How did you sleep?" He reaches around your waist with his other arm, pulling you closer to him on the bed. You lose your balance and topple over, head hitting the pillow, and his warm blue eyes are right in your face now. He looked like an entirely different person.

 

"Uh...good." You hadn't been able to dredge up a comment on your sleep in months, not a single dream running through your brain since the nightmares you used to have when he first took you. It was nothing but an absence from your life for a few hours; a short reprieve from the same house you'd been stuck in for months. The only difference between this night and the rest is that this night ended with a peaceful awakening.

 

"That's good." His breath is warm on your face. He's so close to you. You weren't used to this sort of doting, those affectionate looks. Had you finally cracked through the exterior of this cold man?

 

"The window?" you questioned. You looked over his shoulder, and sure enough the one on the wall opposite of the bed was unbarred too. More light than ever flooded in your room, warming your skin with it's glow. It was late morning, judging from the orange lights on the wall. He had let you sleep in too?

 

"Caught that right away, didn't you?" he asked, raising an amused brow. You pressed your lips together, hoping he wouldn't take it the wrong way, but he just chuckled and pulled you even closer. "You've proven yourself to me, honey. I don't think I need to keep you caged any more."

 

That was the line. You were most certainly having a very pleasant, very deceiving dream. Of course your first one in months would actually get you going for a minute, actually believing that you'd hear everything that you could ever hope for. You slid your fingers and pinched the skin on your forearm once, then again. 

 

"Oh," you say aloud, eyes falling down to 76's bare chest. You really weren't dreaming, at least, not unless you were in a coma. This was your reality now. Your dreams were finally coming true. You wondered if you should feel bad that your dreams didn't involve actually escaping from your kidnapper, rather than him finally showing you the affection you wanted.

 

Well, you couldn't help that you didn't. Lose the critical thinking skills, you reminded yourself, and you'd be a lot happier. That had proved to work.

 

"So, what does that mean?" you ask, your voice full of trepidation. Like you were opening your mouth to him for the first time all over again. Anxious but for an entirely different reason. Soldier closed his eyes and leaned forward, pressing his lips to yours in a kiss.

 

The first one he'd ever given you.

 

You ease into it slowly, lips melding against his and swaying ever so gently with your head. You had forgotten what kissing felt like, but you were certain it had never felt as good as this. His lips were softer than anyone you'd ever met, the rough stubble around his lips and chin scratched your face and tickled your nose. You felt like you had kissed him for hours and were still left wanting when he pulled away.

 

"I've been wanting to do that," he admitted, quietly, his eyes falling closed. He looked peaceful too. "For so long."

 

"Why didn't you?" you asked. He cracked one eye back open, looking like he might fall back asleep any second.

 

"I didn't want to get too invested in--Well, that's a lie." He brought his hand over his face, dragging it down and shaking out his jaw. "I was always invested in you. I just...didn't want there to be anything until I knew you wanted it too."

 

The weight of those words hit you with the force of a train. Did you want this? Were you truly happy here with this man, or were you just allowing yourself to sit in the backseat of your own mind and let him take you anywhere he pleased? 

 

Well, again, you didn't like to question happiness, did you?

 

"So, what happens now?" you asked. His smile returned and he slid his arm beneath you, hand moving back to hold your head. His fingers slid through your heavy tresses of hair and shook them.

 

"Well, why don't we start with getting this cut?" he proposed. Your eyes widened in disbelief, breath getting caught in your throat. 

 

"You mean..."

 

"We'll be going out?" He looked amused with your surprise, ruffling your hair again with his hand. "Yes, it does. You can behave yourself, right?"

 

A question like that from him only has one answer. 

 

Your lips curled up, something resembling genuine happiness filling up your heart. "I can do anything for you."

 

He's pleased with that answer, and it shows in the next kiss he gives you. All passion you're unfamiliar with, his hands grasping at your flesh and pulling you a little closer each time. You were so unfamiliar with this, but you craved it. You wanted it so badly you would take it from anyone, even someone like him.

 

Hesitantly, you wrapped your arms around him, savoring how he leaned into you instead of moving away from your touch. You almost couldn't believe that he would treat you this way, let you feel like you were in bed with a lover instead of a captive. Like he truly desired you. How you so desperately wanted to be...wanted. 

 

He pulled away, and his hands slid beneath your shirt. His touch on your skin was so much more gentle, like a caress as he massaged your sides and slowly slid down to your hips. He pushed your pants down your thighs, letting them bunch up at your knees. His fingers trailed back up your bare skin, drawing little patterns along the way until they reached your crotch.

 

His right hand wriggled beneath your thighs, curling his fingers until they slid along your lower lips. His other hand slid back up the length of your body, lifting your shirt in the process until his index was curled beneath your chin, tilting your head up so he could look you in the eye.

 

"You truly were made for me," he said, as though he was in awe of you. You felt worshipped, in a sense, the warmth in your chest that bloomed from how he looked at you. His eyes were such a cold blue before, and you could almost feel how the chill had dissipated and there was nothing but admiration. Love.

 

You try to spread your legs further for him, but the pants around your knees prevented it. It didn't bother him, he was having no trouble rubbing the pad of his middle finger against your clit, quick circles that made you buck your hips in want. His thumb moved to your bottom lip, opening your mouth a little wider for him. You pushed your tongue out against his finger, and his smile grew twice as wide.

 

"I love when you beg for it." His hand pulled away from your chin, and he was pulling your shirt off the rest of the way. You moved your arms to comply, letting him pull it over your head and toss it off to the floor. He removed his boxers before anything, letting you feel his stiff cock against your thigh while he undressed. You had so much experience fucking him, looking at every inch of him, but never before had it looked so appealing. 

 

"How do you want it?" he asked. It was such an unfamiliar question you nearly choked. How did  _ you _ want it? Every out-of-character thing he had done this morning only convinced you further you were living some sort of fever dream, but how could it be when it felt so real. When his eyes were unmistakably there, looking into yours like you were the best thing that had ever happened to him. 

 

"I want to look into your eyes," you said, barely comprehending what you were asking until after it had left your mouth. He smiled and slid his hand out from between your thighs, grabbing your pants and pulling them the rest of the way down. Once your legs were free, he spread them wide and pulled his body over yours.

 

"Like this?" he asked. You responded by wrapping your legs around his waist, trying to pull him closer to you. He grinned and aligned himself, pushing himself inside of you in one gentle thrust. Once he was comfortable, he pulled back and plunged his cock as deep as he could fit it. You bit his shoulder, moaning into his tough flesh, and he grunted. “Careful.”

 

You pulled your mouth back and whispered an apology, pressing your lips to the teeth marks and leaving gentle kisses. 

 

He chuckled but said nothing in return, pulling his hips back and thrusting into you again. His hands found your shoulders and pushed you down to the bed, his body hovering inches over yours, Sweat dripped off of his chest and onto your body. 

 

The sex was quiet, that much hadn't changed. He wasn't much for dirty talk, and neither were you. Instead, the room was filled with the sound of skin on skin, your ragged breaths and moans covering the quieter ones that came out of 76's mouth. Never once did he close his eyes, baby blues piercing through you and pinning you in place. He oozed authority, even in his most tender moments.

 

"I'm gonna make you the happiest man in the world," 76 said, caressing your cheek in his palm, "I promise you that."

 

Your heart swelled with every word. You were still trying to get past the emotional whiplash of it all. You felt so hot, every inch of your body aflame beneath his touch, and your insides were slowly heating from your mounting pleasure. You could barely think.

 

"I love you," you say, and it makes you feel 10 pounds lighter to say it. 76 smiles and finally closes his eyes, lowering himself until his chest pressed against yours, hard muscle sticking to your sweaty skin. 

 

"I love you too." He speeds up his thrusts rapidly, urging himself to a quick orgasm, and you were shocked to find his hand pressed between the both of you, finger once again seeking your clit. The added stimulation of it added onto your already blissed-out state, making you throw your head back and cry out to relieve yourself of the pressure building within.

 

"That's right," he urged, angling himself so that he could rock against your hips. "Go ahead."

 

With that, the very first orgasm you’d had with him rocked through you, walls spasming in waves as the knot woven tight within your lower half came apart. You nearly blacked out from how intensely it had hit you, body shivering with electric jolts across every inch of your skin.

 

"That was perfect.” Dizzy and nonsensical, you cracked up an eye and caught 76 smiling down at you, eyes focused on your stomach. You’d been so caught up in your orgasm that you hadn’t even realized he had reached his, strands of cum shot  on your lower stomach, mingling with the light hairs on your happy trail.

 

You met his eyes again, and you let your head fall back to the pillow, spent. You had no doubt in your mind now that this would be a time where he would stay to take care of you afterwards. Hopefully there’d never be a time again when he wouldn’t.

 

A normal life, finally. All you had to do was be with him.

 

That wasn't the worst thing in the world.


End file.
